


hope

by VenusianBouquet



Series: hope [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: An exploration of how Leia feels about Finn, Background Relationships, Finn Skywalker, Finn-centric, Gen, Leia Organa-centric, There are references made to Bloodline too, as well as some speculation on who exactly Finn is, or rather who his parents are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 23:38:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8598283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenusianBouquet/pseuds/VenusianBouquet
Summary: Poe flies, Rey studies with Luke, and Finn studies with Leia.





	

The first time Leia Organa sees Finn, she doesn’t know who he is — he’s simply a man trailing alongside her best pilot. He seems lost in everything that's going on, lost in the hurried activity of a Resistance conference room. He’s a soldier; his eyes sweep across the room even as he follows Poe, spotting every exit, or possible use of cover. It’s an instinct she herself shares. 

Her first impulse is to comfort him. 

It's bizarre, and unprofessional, and everything about the circumstances pushes the urge aside, but it’s still there.

Poe Dameron makes his way to her. "General Organa. Sorry to interrupt, but"—he indicates the young man beside him—"this is Finn and he needs to talk to you." 

 _Ah_ , Leia thinks. _So this is Finn._ This is the man who rescued Poe Dameron. The one who, raised in the First Order's cruelty, still found a way to denounce it. "And I need to talk to him."

Taking his hand is a natural impulse. It's a gesture meant to put him at ease, or comfort him somehow. There’s an energy radiating off of him; nervousness and urgency and fear, and love, too, all roiling together. As they talk, he visibly ignores her praise, and as she stares at this man, she _understands_ him. The need to find Rey, to rescue a friend, is a powerful thing. It’s a familiar thing.

That probably explains why it feels so familiar to her. Another planet destroying weapon, another rush to destroy it; another young man rushing to find someone in the middle of it all.

After the destruction of Starkiller Base — the murder of her husband at the hands of her _son_ — the Resistance Base on D’Qar seems so much emptier. The absence of so many pilots creates a heavy atmosphere; one Leia doesn’t try to lift. Soon after, however, the somber mood is pierced by a ray of hope— the map is complete. Everyone peers at the projection as if Luke will materialize inside of it right then and there. Leia knows the man behind the myth, deeply, knows that he is just a man; but she knows the significance of this. It’s hope. Even as they make plans, prepare for evacuation of the base and hand out missions, Chewie talks about ownership of the _Falcon_ and it makes all of it — Han’s death, Luke’s imminent return — real. Grounded in a way it wasn’t before.

Han is gone. He’s been gone for a while now; but this time it’s — he’s _dead_ , gone, that man who survived so much with her and Luke. Luke hasn’t seen him in so long, either, and it all _hurts_ , to be hopeful for her brother’s return while knowing Han won’t have one. So she does what she does best: she throws herself into her work. She doesn’t think of the nights they spent on Hosnian Prime ( _though that’s been taken from her too_ ,) or the day he rescued her from Sibensko. She only thinks of Rey — of preparing her to find Luke.

Chewie somberly inspects the _Falcon_. Rey stands in front of it, lost in thought. Leia almost says something when Rey suddenly speaks up. “I need to see Finn one more time.” It’s phrased like a statement, but said like a question. She’s asking for permission.

Leia smiles. “See him. This is probably gonna be the last time you see him for a while; he’ll wake up while you’re gone.” _If he wakes up. If you get back._

Those fears have been present in Leia; war means there’s never a guaranteed return. Anything can happen. What has her confused is how _scared_ she is of that, of these two young people never coming back. Rey has become somewhat of a fixture to everyone on base. Unused to contact though she is, the mechanics chat with her, Poe Dameron brings her fruit and looks after her, Admiral Statura lets her read ship schematics and the like; all the droids on base have a designation for her.

But Finn has become a fixture to Leia, too. The boy is in a coma, but the way Rey and Poe talk about him is almost reverent. Loving, almost. It’s a familiar dynamic to her — only a fool would be blind to the parallels between these three and Han, Luke, and herself — but she struggles to figure out why she cares so much. She doesn’t know anything about him; only that he saved her best pilot and one of the next generation of Jedi. He’s brave, dedicated, good — but something in her knows he has a bigger part to play in all of this.

After Rey leaves, they evacuate the base. D’Qar’s humidity isn’t missed by anyone except maybe Poe, who had compared it to his home moon, before listing the (apparently numerous) differences between D’Qar’s forests and the jungles he grew up in.

The location of their new base is on an Outer Rim planet called Bothroscan. It’s beautiful, mountainous, and chilly, but not cold; the planet’s winter has come and gone by the time they’re fully settled. It almost reminds Leia of Alderaan; so much so that she has to take a moment to catch her breath. Grief for her parents and her planet, long gone, grief for Han and Ben — it all mixes together inside her, and she throws herself even further into being the leader that the Resistance needs.

Making sure the base isn’t too visible from space, or easily picked up through scanning, setting sentry probes at the edges of the system — all of these things are done by her and her team. It’s a lot faster than it was in the past. The New Republic’s resources have been opened to them, following the destruction of the Hosnian System, and the surviving senators not entrenched in the First Order are supporting the Resistance privately and publicly. Ship fabrication, weapons manufacturing, enlistment; everything has increased tenfold. The New Republic can finally catch up to the arms race it didn’t know was happening.

Leia doesn’t fear that it’s too late; it’s clear that it already is. What she fears is that it won’t be enough.

The newly constructed base is a tightly-packed complex of squat buildings nestled in between two peaks, with the main structure set inside of the eastern mountain. The floor to ceiling windows along the exterior corridors let the sunlight in, and give a view of the surrounding mountains and the valley below them; the more narrow windows in the interior and base of the mountain show cave ceilings and other base infrastructure. Evacuation of D’Qar is staggered over a week. Personnel both new and old, in age and to the Resistance, slowly fill the base, and it instills in her a peculiar kind of hope and dread — she believes in her people just as much as she knows the lethal power of the First Order. More than that, though, she knows war.

That first week, there’s no news from Rey, or the _Falcon_ , or Chewie or R2, or anyone at all. C-3PO fusses about her, and while she appreciates C-3PO’s enduring presence, she feels smothered. When she’s caught with a rare moment of free time for the first time in what feels like eons, Leia finds herself walking Finn’s room. The corridor on the way to the medical center is long, and even worse, windowed. For a moment, the mountains remind Leia so much of Alderaan she has to stop and stare before quickening her pace.

When she enters the room, Poe Dameron is there. His uniform is freshly laundered; the badge on his chest that shows his new rank of Colonel is shining. The man is clearly nervous and jittery, but despite that, he looks so much younger than he has in a long time. For a striking moment, Poe Dameron reminds her of a different pilot; a different man, with different eyes and hair and face, but with the same youth. The same devotion to their friends and to the cause. Joph Seastriker and Poe Dameron are alike in too many ways, both of them young men too eager to prove themselves to her.

Poe remains unaware of her and her memories, staring at Finn. His affection is clear; both through the Force and plain sight. Maybe this is why, instead of any sort of greeting, Leia announces herself with a joke. “He renounced the First Order, saved your life, and he stole your heart, too. Is there anything he can't do?"

She allows herself a snort when he falls out of his chair. The whole thing is so silly, she laughs for longer than is necessary, because levity is rare, and they all need a break they won't get for a while. Poe understands, if the way his eyes soften when he looks at her is any indication. He stares at her from the floor for a moment before standing up, face serious. “General––tell him I’m on a mission, if he wakes up while I’m gone. Please.”

She nods, smiling. Something passes between them then, a respect for the situation and for the mission. Respect for the fact that Poe endangers his life for the Resistance far too often. Of course, then Poe salutes her in that specific way that he _knows_ she hates, and she has to roll her eyes. His resulting laughter lights up the room even after he leaves; the sound of the heartbeat monitor isn’t so loud anymore.

Her eyes rove over Finn’s body. His chest rises with deep, even breaths, and the noise of his heartbeat serves as a curious sort of backdrop. She's reminded of her birth mother, Padmé Amidala Naberrie. Leia can see the picture as it was shown to her; the overcast twilight of Naboo, the thousands of lights held up by the crowds. The youth and stillness of the woman in the coffin. It’s an odd association to make out of so many other possibilities, but once she makes the observation, it persists even more strongly.

She chances another glance at Finn.

He doesn't move, aside from the rise and fall of his torso, and his presence is so _still_. His nervous, darting eyes, his love for Rey and Poe, visible to her even then, even after such little time — all of it is missing in his stillness.

Until it isn’t.

Leia is told of Finn’s awakening by a harried-looking Lieutenant Connix. Her impulse to go to him immediately is hard to resist, but resist she does. (She’s in a conference with the Admirals of the Resistance — One doesn't grow up to be a Princess, a Senator, or even a General, without learning patience.) The news still tugs at her urgently though; she owes him a visit, at the least, for all that he’s done.

The next day finds her standing at the entrance of his room. Finn himself is standing at a window. The room is lit by Bothroscan’s sunrise, and through the window, she can see the valley plateau spreading out beneath them. She can see the colorful wildflowers contrast with the dark stone-gray of a large landing strip, populated by X-Wing fighters. He turns to her, and straightens immediately. “General Organa.”

All at once, she feels his confusion, and his fear, and his pain, just as much as she feels the life around them. The Force is all around them; Leia reminds herself of this as she leans on it for strength. “Finn. How are you?”

"Good. Still need to start physical therapy." He pauses. "I'm sorry about Solo. Han, I mean. I couldn't—he was, we were.” His breath quickens. She puts her hand on his shoulder, and he relaxes.

They talk for some time. His love for Rey and Poe is there, not as obvious as it was on the day she first met him — but it’s there. She hears it in the worried way he asks about both of them; the relief he feels when she answers his questions.

Looking at this man, Leia sees _potential_ more than anything else. She can see a future where he becomes a decorated soldier, or a senator, or a medic. This is what solidifies her decision; not the Force, or what he’s done for the Resistance. It is the potential she sees in him that makes her offer a mentorship. A chance to learn about history, and politics, and strategy — the reality of things, away from the First Order. As she leaves his room, both of their minds are preoccupied and uncertain.

Offering him her time and tutelage serves a double-purpose. There are countless possibilities ahead of him; that is undeniable. But there is a selfish need within her to try to find out what calls her to him. Is it the Force? Is it the guilt she feels, for having raised the man who did this to him? _Perhaps it’s both._

She doesn't get to visit again until a week later, and already he shows improvement; his walk is quick, and there’s no limp. He’s already come so far — her son’s lightsaber had slashed so precisely that he’s lucky to be alive.

Finn is lucky in another way, too — Poe had returned from his mission just after her first visit. Each time she sees Finn in his room, Poe is there. The energy between them thrums with possibility, and mutual attraction; her heart swells to see it. She can see Shara Bey and Kes Dameron in their son, and his happiness soothes some of the guilt she feels. Guilt at not watching over him more closely, after Shara's death. Guilt at dragging Poe into a war his parents fought so hard to avoid. Guilt at raising Ben Solo, who would become Kylo Ren.

It is pointless to feel this, to feel guilt for things she cannot change, and yet.

Another week passes before Finn is sent to proper living quarters. Not many furnishings, although he doesn’t seem to mind. The room has windows, which is rare: many of the units are inside the mountain itself. As he looks out of the windows, she notices the view. It faces the south, with rolling plains that go on to the horizon, a sea of green grass. He doesn’t say anything for a while, just stands in front of the window in silence.

“I’ll be in communications if you need me, Finn. Let you get settled in for a bit.”

“Oh, no, I’ll come with you––“

“I appreciate your help, Finn, I do, but take a day for yourself. Learn your way around the base. I’ll send Lieutenant Connix over so she can show you around and introduce you to some people, okay?”

She turns to leave, looking at him over her shoulder. Finn’s smile is almost an afterthought, but it’s bright enough to cause a pang in her chest. It’s a reminder of Korr Sella. Another young person under her tutelage, devoted to her cause. Another victim of the conflict. Korr Sella had been on Hosnian Prime when it had been destroyed — would Finn be sent off to a diplomatic mission in her stead to suffer a similar fate?

The door slides to a close, and a voice that sounds far too much like Vader’s whispers in her head. _How many young people will die for you and your Resistance, Leia?_

All she can do is ignore it, no matter how much she agrees; there’s work to be done.

It rings true the next day, too; that’s when Finn’s work really begins. The first day consists of Finn giving them intelligence on the First Order, and soon after, Finn speaking to Resistance admiralty becomes an every-day occurrence. His nervousness is obvious — his eyes  dart about the room, and the light of the holos reflects his sweaty skin, but the intelligence he gives them is no less useful.

Leia is nothing if not perceptive, though. Even with all the intelligence gained on the First Order, the work still takes it’s toll; when they leave the conference room and Finn sits down at her desk, she can’t help but notice his frayed nerves, his emotions particularly close to the surface in those moments.

She wishes she could be more empathetic; it’s hardly fair to ask him to recount the cruelty of those years in front of so many people, almost all of them strangers, but the need for it is too crucial. She makes sure to tell him so; all too often, people’s efforts go unacknowledged, but not for this. Not for something like this.

Looking over the transcripts of taken by PZ-4CO, Leia feels an incalculable _anger_ that this is something the New Republic allowed to happen. That Finn is the exceptional individual that he is, and yet the byproduct of something that should never happen to anyone. Innocuous details of his daily life and training clearly sound normal to him, with the way he sometimes reveals them to her, but…

Leia misses her friends in the New Republic deeply — she hopes the billions of people in the Hosnian System are at peace. But the First Order should never have been allowed to grow the way it did. Thousands of children should never have been abducted and given serial numbers instead of names.  This is on her and every other member of the senate. At every level of government.

This feeling — white-hot anger mixing with grief and hope — doesn’t go away. It hasn’t gone away in the six years since she first founded the Resistance; much less in the space of a few weeks.

Something does change soon, though it has less to do with Leia, and more with Finn. It’s three weeks before he gets… comfortable. His demeanor somehow becomes both more _and_ less nervous. He smiles more easily, laughs louder, reveals more about his past outside of briefings. It could be familiarity, or it could be because he recounts his various traumas to her in the name of military intelligence almost daily.

Regardless, Finn talks to her with the familiarity of someone who’s known her for years, not weeks; not that she minds. The way most people speak to her is nervous, and curious, like they’re treading the waters, trying to see if she’ll get angry or annoyed before saying anything more. She can recognize it for what it is; Leia knows her reputation has always preceded her, especially since her parentage had been revealed to the galaxy. She smirks, wondering what Finn has been told about her.

She almost asks him, too. But he speaks first. “Do you ever think about the past?”

She looks back at him from where she’s standing at the window. It lets Bothroscan’s sunset flood the gray office with orange light, somehow too soft and too bright for the suddenly serious atmosphere. Leia stands in silence for a moment before answering. “Sometimes I feel like that’s all I ever do, Finn. Why do you ask?”

“I was thinking back on — a particular mission we went on, before Jakku.”

Annoyance gets the better of her. “I thought Jakku was your first time seeing combat?”

“It was!” His clarification is hasty, and Leia’s annoyance fades, just as quickly as it appears; she chides herself for letting it in the first place. “Something’s been bothering me about it. I know there are things that seem normal to me but aren’t, but usually I can tell how to feel by how people react. I don’t know how to feel about this.”

She nods.

“We were on a mission to a mining colony. The people were all… They were all… sickly looking, and tired and hungry and, and,” his breath catches, and she can feel _something_ reach out to her, but just as quickly as she feels it, it recoils. Finn breathes deeply. “We were brought to a room full of negotiators. People who just wanted better working conditions; slightly fairer lives. We were told to shoot them.”

Her reassurance is automatic, almost a reflex, but no less true. “Finn, the First Order would have killed you if you had shown disobedience, you of all people must know that.”

“I didn’t shoot them, though.”

A vision flashes against her mind, a chrome-plated captain and people in white armor standing around her, an Abednedo in her sights. It disappears a second later.

Finn begins to speak again before she can say anything. “I was looking at one of them through my sights, and I thought to myself… ’All I see is a life full of suffering. A life full of misery, and despair, and it’s about to end. Maybe this is a kindness.’ And — and I still couldn’t do it. How can I be so good if I, what should I––“

Her heart clenches. She takes his hand before he finishes speaking, and whether its surprise or some other emotion that makes him stop, she can’t tell. She can’t respond. She doesn’t know how to, there’s––how can she respond to that?

It takes her a moment before she delicately says, “Finn, the fault is never on you. Having a guilty conscience about being used for evil is… Finn, they treated you like an object and used you like an object, but what could you have done? Disobeyed, yes, done the right thing. And you would’ve gotten yourself killed. And then none of this,” — she motions to the room around them — “would ever have happened. Beebee-Ate would be on Jakku, with Rey, and Poe would be dead. _You_ would be dead.”

The truth settles between them, then; how instrumental Finn’s defection was, and still is. They sit like that for a moment before Finn apologizes, and goes back to reading surveillance data. C-3PO barges in a moment later; Finn eagerly takes the opportunity to learn more astromech Binary. The moment is gone. Leia thinks of it later that night; the _something_ that had reached out to her, the memory she couldn’t possibly have been there to see.

She considers it from all angles. The Force could easily be informing her of what he’s talking about by itself, because the Force is strange, and has been known to act on its own. Finn has never shown any signs before, either; empathy and kindness aren’t something exclusive to Force-sensitives.

In truth, though… Finn _could_ have some strength with it, but the thought terrifies her in a way few things do. The Force has never been kind — not to her birth father, or her son. Not to the Jedi. Not to her.

She keeps a closer eye on Finn regardless.

In the space of a week, nothing similar happens. Her chest lightens somewhat; she feels more confident that the vision was nothing but the Force itself, showing her a memory. In contrast to the nebulousness of the Force, however, she sees with newfound clarity how extraordinary Finn is. After hearing so many examples of the First Order’s cruelty, after fighting it for years, Leia is still surprised at how _good_ this man is; kindhearted, and gentle, for all that he has been exposed to, and all that he has been told to do.

A traitorous part of her can't help but compare him to her son. Ben Solo, now Kylo Ren. So loved, so cherished, raised by family that cared for him, and he _chooses_ the Dark time after time in the name of Vader. Finn; hated, mistreated, a faceless stormtrooper among many. Never exposed to true kindness, or empathy, and yet here he stands before her — a man who chooses to do good, again and again. It reminds her of Luke, in a way.

Leia Organa can recall the moment she first saw Luke Skywalker. The recycled air of the Death Star, the way Luke’s long hair fell out of the stormtrooper helmet. The blue of his eyes. The sight of her planet bursting into pieces still playing endlessly in her mind, Darth Vader’s mechanical breathing a cruel, endless rhythm.

Nausea rolls over her, and she can taste bile in her throat. The thought of Darth Vader and all that he did to her, when he so easily could have given her chances to escape like he did Luke — the knowledge that Leia was his daughter was always within reach, waiting to be plucked from the Force. Nausea gives way to a familiar, bone-deep anger. It morphs into annoyance when she sees the chrono on the wall. Another late night, spent with horrible memories.

The twin moons of Bothroscan are shining through her windows when she finally sleeps.

The first thing she’s aware of is Vader. She can’t see him, but she hears the sound that haunted millions, and still does. The labored breathing of the man in the mask. It’s synchronized to her heartbeat; every pulse of blood through her veins is another deep echo in her ears.

She opens her eyes to see that she’s on Alderaan. Only — one moment it’s Alderaan, and the next, it’s Hosnian Prime. Footsteps grow closer and closer to her, heavy and thudding; the landscape keeps changing, morphing from the familiar silhouette of her home into the cityscape of Hosnian Prime and back, all to the sound of her heartbeat, to the rattling breaths of a dictator.

Leia runs, and runs, and _runs_ , and she knows she can never stop. She can’t stop running, not when she’s being chased by — by _him_. Darth Vader is chasing her, only she looks back and it’s––it’s him, still, but it’s Anakin Skywalker, only his long hair turns black and his face turns into her son’s face and her son is hateful, he hates her, and she loves him, and––it stops. Everything is silent, and red, and that horrible light in the sky stands still, watching, waiting, and Breha Organa stands in front of her. It’s her mother. Until it isn’t. The woman isn’t the last Queen of Alderaan, now it’s Padmé Amidala who walks up to her and holds her face and says, _my child, how I love you._

Leia wants to shake her head, wants to keep running, wants to ask her the question burning in her mind––

“How did you love someone when they’ve become a monster?”

“ _You don’t._ ”

Leia wants to scream, _it’s different, I’m not his wife, I’m not his child, I’m his mother and I love him, I’ve always loved him._

She doesn’t. Padmé Amidala gazes at her in silent pity.

The landscape shifts once more, from the mountain peaks of Alderaan to the red sky of Hosnian Prime in it’s final moments. Red-white light rushes towards the planet; Leia shoots up in her bed, bile rising at her throat.

She doesn’t sleep well the rest of the night. That in itself isn’t much of a change, though. The dream has a palpable effect on her; it renews her sense of purpose; her will to fight against the First Order, and what it stands for. (It renews her grief, too, though it seems these days that just thinking too long has the same effect.)

The people of Hosnian Prime died in an instant, and the last thing they saw before death was that cruel beam of light, and then nothingness. Ben Solo allowed the First Order to destroy an entire _system_. Even after all she did, all she taught him about her culture. _Their_ culture. The values of Alderaan, (even the ones she failed to uphold,) passed down to Ben Solo Organa; all she taught him about the Destruction of Alderaan, the atrocity that that was — and he allowed billions of people to die in an instant, just as her people were gone in an instant.

She tries to argue with herself that Ben doesn’t — that it was Snoke, and it _is_ Snoke; she has to believe that it was Snoke, that he targeted her son as Palpatine did Anakin Skywalker — but even that conviction is slipping.

She’s ashamed of him, and at what he’s done; just as much as she is angry at him. But… she loves him. She still does. She always will.

Admiral Ackbar must notice something one day; an absent stare or a too-tight grip. He asks her if she’s okay. The question is almost a novelty. She shrugs the way she always does when someone asks her that.

It surprises her, then, that he asks her about Finn. Not about Han. Not about Ben either, but about Finn. “I can’t help but notice your attachment to to him, Leia. What is your fascination with the boy? Who is he to you?”

Leia pauses a moment; she doesn't know how to answer the admiral’s question. She’d been prepared for a question about Ben, or herself, but being questioned about Finn just brings to mind all the ways she had compared them in her head.

The man in question had excused himself from the meeting; he’d given them an estimate location for a base, a small one used to care for the children that would become stormtroopers. The tightness in his jaw had caused her to let him leave — Leia isn’t cruel. _Force knows he needs some time._

In truth, she _is_ drawn to Finn. She settles for a partially true answer. ”He reminds me of me, when I was young.”

What she doesn’t say is that he feels familiar to her the way Luke did, before she found out that he was her twin; that he’s damning evidence that her son has been actively choosing the dark; that he wasn’t simply led astray by Snoke; that things were never so simple.

That it was her fault, too.

She’s so deep in thought she almost forgets she was talking to someone. Whether her statement is enough of a response for him, or if he notices her mental absence, he doesn't say; Admiral Ackbar simply nods, and pats her shoulder solidly before leaving. She’s left alone in her office.

With the meeting apparently over, she takes the time to read reports. They’re on the Mid Rim and the Core Worlds, and they won’t read themselves. She’ll have to go on a diplomatic trip soon. Naboo is the first planet on her mind, though she’ll have to consult with the admiralty before doing anything.

A month after Finn’s awakening, the mission is finalized. He will accompany Leia to Naboo, to help formulate better relations between Naboo and the Resistance, and to attend the inauguration of a new Senator. _To show the First Order that the Resistance grows strong_ , she adds to herself. _To show the galaxy that the Resistance and the Republic stand together._

Admiral Statura objects heavily. She can tell Finn takes it personally, which is perhaps why Statura addresses Finn directly when he says, "This is not out of mistrust for you, Major. This is out of concern for the General's safety, and yours. There's been rumor of a First Order presence on Naboo for a while now; all we need is for something to happen while you two are there."

Poe Dameron, in a black jacket and black pants — his usual outfit outside of flight suits and dress uniforms — enters the room suddenly. His hair is windswept, and she feels Finn twitch beside her. She looks at him, and though his skin is too dark to tell, she thinks she can see a red undertone that wasn’t there before.

“Admiral, even if there is a First Order presence on Naboo — which I _highly_ doubt, by the way — Naboo has always been extremely secure. General Organa will have us, and the security of the palace, and the protection of the queen.” Poe’s voice is sure and confident; an odd contrast to Finn’s mounting worry.

In the end, the mission receives approval from the Resistance Admiralty, and they head off to Naboo soon after. Poe Dameron flies them on a ship made for luxury, with C-3PO talking to Finn and BB-8 as they take off, and nostalgia overtakes her. It reminds her of a different ship, with different droids, and different men. Both Finn and Poe notice, or at least, she thinks they do; they’ve hardly talked to her in the first hour of the journey. A glance tells her that they’re focused on themselves as much as they are on leaving her to her thoughts.

She loses herself in thought for a time, before she starts going over the mission plan in her head. Meet with the Queen, meet with the Senator, and attend the inauguration ceremony; Visit the Alderaanian enclave in Theeds. She remembers, suddenly, that a ceremony means formal clothing and extravagant hair styles, and an idea comes into her head. ”Finn, have you thought about styling your hair differently?"

"General?"

She tuts. Upholding rank is needless on a ship populated by three people and two droids. “I’ve told you this before, politics are incredibly superficial. They give you the opportunity to... _experiment_ with fashion. Would you want to do that?"

To Leia’s surprise, he nods. She had been expecting him to say no, the way she used to. It was probably her least favorite part of politics — the appearances one had to keep.

Although… she can guess why someone like Finn, with his upbringing, would want to experiment with fashion. "The First Order never really taught us about hair, besides that it exists. It’s too individual, might not fit under a helmet or whatever other reason, I've never had it longer than regulation length before. Actually, Kaixan, one of the nurses? He was the one who helped me with hair stuff at first. He even gave me an afro pick; he said I should use it if I wanted to grow my hair out.” Leia nods, vaguely recalling Finn talking about him once.

Poe, however, frowns, his jealousy surging; she has to actively suppress a laugh at how obvious it is. She thinks he notices, though, because when his eyes meet hers, he flushes. He turns to Finn. ”Don't worry, buddy, those stylists on Naboo are gonna make you look as fancy as possible.” C-3PO agrees heartily, and mentions traditional robes and hairstyles.

Finn smiles. She can feel his gratitude, and for a moment, Leia wonders at his ability to feel so deeply, and so intensely; how he feels emotions so completely despite the repression the First Order forced him into. She wonders, again, if the Force is with him, although she'd never voice her thoughts on the topic with anyone, except maybe Luke. 

Then she wonders how Rey is doing. How her brother is doing, now that he has a student again. If she strains, she can get flashes of them both. Luke on Ahch-To, the ocean surrounding him. He flashes out of her mind and avoids her, and she can’t even be mad; it’s the closest she’s gotten to him in years. She almost wants to try again, right then and there, in front of Finn and Poe. 

Before she can, though, BB-8 beeps from the astromech socket, set within the cockpit of the ship, and she hears C-3PO’s (now unnecessary) announcement that they’ve arrived. Poe jumps up, and lands them outside the palace of Theeds without incident. Queen Shasin Hoy greets them excitedly, though Leia senses a strange undercurrent of fear and tension in the greeting, and in the populace.

Theeds hasn’t changed much. The city still has a rustic charm, still carries a certain beauty that can’t be found anywhere else in the galaxy. She sees the signs of unrest, though. Actual security forces patrol the streets, which are a common enough sight on some other planets, but on _Naboo_? And there’s graffiti on the walls, which isn’t too bad in itself, but — literal First Order propaganda.

It’s a lot worse than they’d been led to believe, if First Order propaganda is graffitied on the walls of Naboo’s capital city. Finn’s face is carefully neutral as they walk past it, but she can feel his anxiety.

Maybe that’s why Finn asks Leia about the Alderaanian population on Naboo, as if he senses her own growing apprehension. It brings up a well of emotion from her; she had forgotten that she told him that story, about her mission to save the last Alderaanians. Poe grins at both of them, and it’s with eagerness that they walk to the enclave.

It hasn’t changed in any obvious ways, but the passage of time is obvious. The last surviving generations of Alderaanians are aging, now, and so many of them have already gone. The youngest people to remember Alderaan and it’s destruction are just reaching their late thirties. Alderaan is still alive though, for all that she tells herself differently. Seeing the smiles on people’s faces — seeing people wear clothes she hadn’t seen for decades, now, it almost makes her cry. The people of Alderaan still love, still learn, still grow. There’s a young Alder-Espirion girl who runs up to her, and bows. Then she giggles, all the while being chided by her mother.

That her people still think of her so well, after the smear campaigns run against her, and being branded as a warmonger — _her, the last Princess of Alderaan, a planet that didn’t even have a standing military, a warmonger_ — fills her with pride, and happiness. It feels like home. It turns into a halfhearted block party, with people coming up to her and telling her stories of Alderaan, as if the Destruction just happened a few years ago and not thirty. Given the destruction of the Hosnian System, she can understand the eager celebration of her visit. They need something to be happy about. Something to help them understand how the very same thing that happened to them could have happened to another planet, a whole system.

She doesn’t know what her heart does in her chest — it’s beating wildly and strong, and there’s grief, there, all sorts of it — but behind the pain and sadness, she finds happiness. Alderaan still lives. Forever altered, a shade of what it once was. But it lives.

There are hiccups, of course. Annoying paparazzi drones, and Alderaanians who still disapprove of the monarchy, even now. Several people ask for pictures with her, and one brave soul even asks for a picture with her and her “hot bodyguards.” The petty annoyances are easily outweighed by the significance of it, and of how inspired the people are. She even overhears some people talking about joining the Resistance.

The whole evening, Finn and Poe trail behind her. They’re trying give her some form of privacy, but that was never gonna happen, not here. Not with her. She’s happy, though; Finn has learned about Alderaan, from her, but now he can see for himself that Alderaan was a beautiful planet, with beautiful people, and beautiful food, and beautiful music. It’s late in the night when they get back to the Palace of Naboo.

She’s exhausted, in the way she is when she spends all day on her feet, but it’s not a bad feeling. She feels accomplished. Poe complains about his feet, says he’s too used to artificial gravity. Finn just laughs. He has his arm held loose around Poe in a very obvious sort of way, but she doesn’t comment.  C-3PO asks them where they’ve been and why they took so long to get back, and she can’t help but smile. For all she complains about the droid, his worry is a fixture in her life that she can appreciate, especially after visiting the Alderaanians.

C-3PO goes off to her room, to go into sleep mode. Poe leaves, too. Finn stays; even through his exhaustion, he walks her to her room with a smile on his face. His eyes rove over every window and door in the hallway, and his face hardens for a moment.

In truth, Leia had forgotten he was here as a bodyguard as well as an envoy. Both Finn _and_ Poe. She’s contemplating on what to say to him, when, unexpectedly, he looks at her and smiles softly. “Goodnight, General Organa. If you need me or Poe, we’ll be down the hall. Get us first if you need anything, we don’t know who we can trust inside the palace.”

“I’m not new to this, Finn. If anyone should be lecturing anyone, it should be me to you. You don’t know the game like I do.” His laugh is quiet, and she squeezes his arm when she says ‘goodnight’. She’s surprised; it feels so much like _family_ — this boy she’s only known for a month and a day.

She might’ve contemplated it more, but she’s so much older, now, than she used to be, and the events of the day have gotten to her. Sleep finds her easily, for the first time in what feels like years.

The next morning, hours are spent speaking with the Queen, and her wife, and with the new Senator. Half of the day goes by in that manner before they finally reach a terse agreement, and a pledge of support and endorsement. That the Queen of Naboo has to be convinced to support the Resistance scares her; it means the support of the New Republic, or what’s left of it, won’t be as total or as guaranteed as she thought. Had the Hosnian System not shown them what the First Order was capable of? Once they’re away from the Queen, though, Senator Corobess assures Leia she has a friend in the senate, or what’s left of it; Leia catches up with Poe and BB-8 that evening feeling better because of it.

When night falls, the four of them walk through the streets of the city almost leisurely. The illusion is only ruined when Leia remembers that Finn and Poe walk with her in the center; clearly a flank, meant to shield her from any attacks. Even BB-8 plays his part, beeping and rolling away in front of her. 

 _At least it's subtle_. She can't even say it's unnecessary — hadn't she sent Korr Sella to Hosnian Prime for fear of an assassination attempt? _And look at how that ended_. Unrest only grows as the New Republic scrambles to right itself; it was already on the brink of collapse when the Hosnian System was destroyed. Leia shakes her head. Thoughts like those lead only to anger and frustration, and those two things are available to her in abundance.

She stops at the mural of Padmé Amidala. She always stops at the mural whenever she's on Naboo, always makes sure to stand in front of it for a moment of respect. It's silly, and yet neither Finn or Poe say anything. What is odd, however, is the surge of emotion she senses from Finn.

"Finn?"

He’s staring at the mural dazedly. At the sound of her voice, he starts, and almost falls, saved only by Poe's quick thinking. "Finn, you okay?"

"Yeah, I just thought — I don't know. Nevermind. I'm fine, really."

It reminds her so much of an occasion, decades ago, soon after Alderaan's destruction. Her mission to save the Alderaanian people comes back to her, with one memory being the reason.

She had been on Naboo, staring at the same mural. The woman she now knows to have been her mother had turned to look at her from inside the mural, somehow, and yet – when she had blinked, the mural was just that: a mural. Silent and still. Her companion had asked her what was wrong, and she had waved it off as a trick of the light of some sort.

She knows now that it was the Force, trying to show her something. Dread settles itself in her stomach; perhaps it is the knowledge that Finn has the same gift that she does, the same curse that she does. It’s no longer an idle thought, or a distant possibility. It’s undoubtable, now. A fact. 

 _He has the Force._ Not for the first time, she finds herself asking the question: _Who is this man?_

The next day is spent preparing. Finn rehearses his address to the Naboo and the Gungan, Leia discusses with the Queen on the terms of their agreement, and Poe and BB-8 fly the fighters she herself had flown with his mother, long ago.

Finn looks up from his book, suddenly, an ancient, thick tablet with a faded display from the Royal Archives of Naboo. “See-Threepio, why are the people of Naboo called The Naboo, while the Gungans are just Gungans?”

This launches the droid into a longwinded story of the history of Naboo and the wave of colonization, which leads into a history of galactic colonization and human expansion, and it makes her ache. It reminds her of her childhood in a way that makes her heart do complicated things in her chest. Learning from her mother and father, history, and politics, how to lead and rule and be just and be _kind_ — things she tried teach her son. Everything is so impossibly different now, and yet so similar. The Empire and the First Order, Alderaan and the Hosnian System, the Resistance and the Rebel Alliance; none of the parallels are lost on her.

All she can do is her duty, and hope that this time, it is enough.

The day of the ceremony comes, and Finn has his hair done extravagantly, conditioned with oils and perfumes. He ends up with three braids running closely together along the center of his head, and elaborate swirls shaved into the sides. Bright orange cloth is wound tightly around his chest and shoulders like a bandage, and the same is done to his arms. Around his legs, though, the garment is fit loosely, and it's just the right combination of high-fashion and impractical that she can't help but laugh.

"Welcome to politics, Finn."

"General, if all of it is looking as ridiculous as this, I think I'll pass. I _might_ keep the hair though," he says, gazing into a mirror.

Poe walks in, dressed sharply, if modestly. A light green shirt, with dark green pants and an unbuttoned dark green jacket. A Resistance dress uniform. His hair is gelled, and he catches a look at the two of them, and does a double-take. "General, you look lovely and radiant as ever.” _Kiss ass._ “Finn, though – buddy, you look great.” His voice is careful, but the way he stares at Finn is familiar. Leia catches his eye again, and he stubbornly looks away.

Finn is still grimacing into a mirror. ”I look like Beebee-Ate had a fit and spray painted a blanket orange, Poe.” BB-8 itself objects to the statement strongly.

She looks at herself in the mirror, while they talk. Gray hair rising in a coil above her head, and a long, orange dress, selected to match Finn. Her face is wrinkled, and so much has changed, and she still feels as unprepared as she did decades ago, when the New Republic was visible on the horizon instead of blown up by Starkiller.

Her mother’s gaze, lit by the cruel red beam, flashes through her mind. She breathes deeply and clears her head; there’s no time to think about nightmares. Not on such an important date. When she looks up to Finn, he’s looking down at her with concern in his eyes. “Remember, Finn, don’t trust anyone but us. Politicians only look out for themselves.”

“Aren’t we politicians?”

“Fine. _Most_ politicians only look out for themselves. But I mean it, Finn, you’re good, but not that good. You don’t know how to play the game yet.”

“That’s another thing — everyone in those books you made me read call it a game, but politics are what run the galaxy. How is it a game?”

“ _Now_ you’re asking me this?”

He laughs that big, bright laugh, and a second later, so does she. Then, arm in arm, with Poe and C-3PO strolling behind them, they enter the hall.

The event goes swimmingly. Leia is reminded of Han, how he hated these occasions, how Threepio always chastised him for not being formal, or even particularly appropriate. How she secretly loved the extravagant affairs. How a small part of her still does.

They enter the ceremony with smiles on their faces, the three of them, and Finn holds her on his arm while Poe trails behind with BB-8 and C-3PO, the droids polished and shined. They sit through the customary address from the Queen, before the Senator themself shows up. A young, svelte human, Senator Corobess is outfitted in navy blue robes, with their long, jet black hair hanging in thick waves behind them. They speak on prioritizing the fight between the First Order and the New Republic, and take a moment for the lives lost at the Hosnian System, and Starkiller, and then, it’s only a rotating list of political figures before Leia hears Finn’s name being called in the Senator’s smooth, deep voice.

Finn stands on a raised dais, in the center of the room, and begins to speak. Leia marvels at his talent. She’s unsure if it’s on purpose or not; the emotion in his voice carries it through the room just so, and the light shines on his skin almost perfectly. He’s captivating to watch. His story even moves the queen to tears, watching from her throne. He’s given a standing ovation, and his smile is so bright she can feel the collective swoon of the room; when she looks at Poe, he’s very carefully sipping his drink, and looking away. Leia is called next.

After she speaks, she receives a standing ovation as well, and they sit through the speeches of numerous other political figures. Finn even gets drinks sent his way, and the jealousy radiating off of Poe when Finn is asked to dance makes her laugh.

It’s simultaneously tense and frivolous. Leia can sense the unease among the people of Naboo, notices the security posted at every exit, the scanners occasionally brought out by the security force, but the food is exquisite, the party is lavish, and the music is being done by a classical quartet native to Naboo. Half of her genuinely enjoys it, and the other half can’t help but think this is another calm before the storm.

Finn eventually returns to their table slightly damp with sweat. “I’ve managed to secure new sponsors for the Resistance, and get this: one of them owns the company that makes the MC80 Star cruisers. He was already sympathetic to the Resistance, Mon Cala too, but you knew that, anyways,” his smile is bright and his hands gesture wildly, “He’s already declared two capital ships for the Resistance, and another two are being fabricated. You and the mechanics can look over the plans later if there are any changes you want to make.”

Leia nods. She’s a little angry Finn has disobeyed an order to not get too deeply involved, but she’s proud, too. “Who’re the other sponsors?”

“Oh! The other sponsors are actually a coalition of different starship manufacturers, but they’ve already promised a complement of several starfighters. They’re all different, but I’m told they can send a few N-1 starfighters, Umbaran starfighters, and I’m pretty sure we already received support from the Corellian fleet, but we’re getting a few Corellian fighters, too.”

She thinks she could be floating. Poe’s the first to get his jaw off of the floor. “Finn, buddy, how did you––!? The N-1 starfighters are impossible to get without the clearance of the monarchy––“

“That’s the thing. The group included the head of the Royal Security Force!”

Her happiness is through the roof, as is theirs. Poe spins Finn around in a hug before pulling him to the dance floor. The music becomes slower, though, so they restrain themselves to slower circles. Leia watches from the table with C-3PO for company.

The night is not without it’s tensions. A single diplomatic envoy from the First Order is there, and he tries to garner sympathy for the remnants of the empire that were left destitute after the formation of the Republic. Though the crowd is largely unaffected, she knows there are always snakes in the grass, lying in wait.

She can’t bring herself to worry, though. Public opinion on Naboo is in favor of the Resistance, and Finn and Poe are on the dance floor, and the First Order diplomat is sitting in the corner, all but shunned and ostracized. It’s a little petty, but it makes her want to laugh.

They leave the planet the day after the ceremony; four days after they arrived. The plans for a fruitful partnership between the Resistance and Naboo are set — all that’s needed is time for them to come to fruition. There’s an odd tension between Finn and Poe, she notices, and yet––Finn’s smile is brighter than a sun when they lift off. He sweeps her off her feet, spinning her around, and when he puts her down it’s like he’s scared, like she’s gonna reprimand him. She rolls her eyes, and pulls him to her again. She’s proud of him, and proud of Poe, too.

They’re all in relatively high spirits when they get back to Bothroscan; some of the fighters and accompanying pilots have arrived, and new fighters are always welcomed eagerly. Poe and Finn seem too stiff, awkward, around each other — she can feel their discomfort, so at odds with what she had felt from them on Naboo — but they’ve accomplished something concrete, something tangible; Finn was already the new star of the Resistance, even more so after this. The junior techs are throwing him a party, and after talking with her, he follows them eagerly.

She puts the oddness with Poe and Finn out of her mind. Their personal problems between each other aren’t her business; she won’t pry. Not if they don’t come to her. Life continues on as normal. The capital ships are orbiting Bothroscan, and Finn cuts his hair again.

Underneath it all, though, Leia wars with herself. The days pass, and the Force grows stronger within Finn; indeed, she can _feel_ it in him now more than ever. She curses her obliviousness. He is so clearly strong with the Force, and it’s a wonder she didn’t sense it in him before Naboo. When the Force reveals itself to someone, it traps them, rushes through them and overwhelms them. Leia can't help but fear for him. The Force has been responsible for so much good and bad, within the galaxy and within themselves. Finn must be told, and at least trained minimally.

She's no Jedi, though. For the umpteenth time that day, she longs for her brother's insight. They have helped each other through so much, and she has had to rely on herself for so long. Han had left, and after he returned to her for a brief moment, he left permanently. Chewie was wise, but their moments together were few, and besides: he left with Rey.

As time goes on, Finn grows sure of himself, of his position in the Resistance. He starts to remind her even more of Luke, and of herself. Yet even as he grows more capable, the Force grows within him, too, and the worry is there whenever she sees him.

He learns astromech Binary, or maybe he's been learning for a while now; their meetings have grown less frequent, with less opportunities to make real conversation. Less opportunities to know what’s going on in his life. The politics that gave them their trip to Naboo have only been worsening. Either way, Finn is walking with BB-8, who burbles and beeps after him. She catches part of a conversation.

"And I've been having weird dreams, lately, too. And General Organa––I don't know why, but ever since I woke up from my coma, she feels almost familiar. I wonder what Rey would say. Is that how the Force is? Does it just make everyone who has it seem familiar to people?”

An annoyed _blat_ from BB-8 has him laughing. “Sorry Beebs. I guess you’d know less about the Force than I do, ‘cause you’re a droid.”

Leia turns back from the sunlit corridor. It's not a conversation meant for her ears; she can send Admiral Statura a message instead of seeing him in person. Her mind races; that the familiarity she feels towards Finn is not one-sided fills her with a particular dread.

The next time she sees him, her suspicions are confirmed.

They're in her office, and Finn is asking her about Luke. He mentions Luke's lightsaber, that had been Anakin's before Luke’s. "And Maz Kanata gives it to me. Solo's right there, and so's Chewie. Both of them actually _know_ him, Solo was his brother-in-law,” — his use of the past tense still hurts, even now —  “And then, the First Order gets there, and I lost my blaster. I tell her I need a weapon, and she says 'You have one!' and I turn it on, and..."

He trails off. Finn himself had never mentioned using the saber, not on Takodana, though Han had mentioned him using it. It seems fitting, that all the pieces should fall into place with Luke’s lightsaber. She knows Maz to be strong with the Force, and if Maz handed it to Finn, she must have had a reason. He continues speaking, seemingly oblivious to her inner turmoil. "It felt familiar in my hands, is the thing. I lost both on Takodana and Starkiller, but... something about it felt familiar. And it's not like I know, you know, _Luke Skywalker_ , so I don't know how that could be."

The way he says Luke’s name is reverent, and awed. Her heart sinks. She wants to tell him right then and there: _You don't know Luke, but he knew you._

She doesn’t––she couldn’t. Finn longs for family, longs for a past besides the First Order so obviously, and she wants to give him that. But to tell him _this_ ––she conflicts with herself even further. It’s one thing to tell him he has the Force, it’s another entirely to tell this secret––it's not hers to tell, doesn't even concern her, except it _does_ , she’s apparently his _aunt_. It’s hard to suppress the anger at herself. Anger at Luke, too, for leaving them all. Guilt swirls, and it keeps building.

Even the others begin to notice, after a week of her distractedness. It’s shameful; she was a monarch, and now a general, she cannot be distracted by such personal matters, not now. She even collides with C-3PO in the corridor, one day, and Finn himself asks her what's wrong after helping the droid up from the floor.

She doesn't know how to answer, other than raising a hand to his cheek and gazing up into his eyes. There's a kindness in them, a guarded vulnerability, and she moves to hug him. She misses Luke now, more than she ever has. Finn looks lost. For all his progress, and all their time together, it’s still a war. His eyes still dart around the room and catalogue every exit; he still takes a moment to respond to the name Finn.

She wishes she could tell him what she knows. The best she can do is call out for her brother through the Force, more strongly than she has in years. If he won’t come to them for anything else, she has to believe he will come for his _son_.

The thing is, though — it works. Weeks pass, but it works.

Years of wanting her brother to come back to her, and when it finally happens, all Leia can manage is a sob.

She collects herself immediately; a leader must keep a certain appearance. When the _Falcon_ touches down at the landing strip, and the ramp slides down, there are two people waiting nearest to it. There should be another two people waiting here, she knows. Poe’s left for Naboo, but his return is guaranteed — it’s Han’s absence Leia feels most of all.

The hangar is set near the valley floor, and Finn and Leia both watch as Rey comes down. Finn twirls her around. She can feel both of them through the Force, young and vibrant. Chewie walks down, and hugs her, weary, and happy, and sad. When they part, the wookie moves on to hug Finn. He laughs, too, and Leia can hear him promising to learn Shyriiwook. It’s almost overwhelming, the collective energy of all of them, and she hasn’t even seen Luke yet.

She turns back towards the ship. Luke stands at the bottom of the ramp. He simply stares at her, and every thought she has had, every word she had planned to say to him for the past decade fall out of her head. He's _here_. Their hug brings a surge of memories, good and sad ones, and she bites back tears. It’s out of habit––there’s no need for her to stop her tears, not when it’s just the two of them. Han’s death hits her now, even with the emotion of Luke’s return. He smiles at her, but it doesn't reach his heavy eyes. Both of them, she knows, have seen far too much. Been through far too much.

But they're together again.

She feels another surge of emotion from Rey and Finn. She can make them out, happy to be reunited. But there’s something else––Luke stares into her eyes, and she can tell he _knows_. There’s something complicated there; sad, and accusatory, and _relieved_. His eyes move to Rey, and she undoubtably senses something wrong, from the way her face falls. When he finally locks eyes with Finn, there’s a powerful surge. In the Force, in their emotions, or both; Leia can’t tell. Luke walks toward him.

Realization dawns on his face, and he stands, frozen in shock. Luke brings his arms up around him, and still, Finn stands, tears beginning to spill down his face in silence. He brings his arms up around Luke as an afterthought, and Leia can’t begin to parse his feelings.

For the first time, Luke speaks. His voice is sad, and full of awe.

“My son _._ ”

Rey stands in shock. Leia, too, though she’s known it all this time. To hear it explicitly stated by Luke does something odd to her stomach, and for the third time in ten minutes, she tries to bite back tears. It doesn’t work as well this time.

Unbidden, the memory of a woman enters her mind. Skin shining in dappled sunlight, pregnant and laughing. The same woman, much younger, shaking her hand. Handing her a lavish bouquet and being rewarded with a kiss. Fine silks draping over her body as she sleeps pressed against someone else.

These are Luke’s memories. He shows them to Finn, now, and to her, so many years after they’ve happened. Leia shuts herself off to them. Leia so badly wants to know, but there’s something stopping her. They’re too intimate; they’re not hers to know, not hers to watch. Rey seems to do the same, and when she turns to leave, the girl follows her without speaking.

“Did you know?”

“I suspected.”

“Does this mean Finn will become a Jedi?”

“It’s up to him, Rey, you know it is. Not everyone with the Force has to become a Jedi. I didn’t.”

She takes in the young woman before her. Something about Rey has changed. Before she left, months ago, the girl had been bright and hot, a wildfire barely contained and barely even started. The Force had awakened in her after so many years of suppression, had roared through her, and now… There’s a focus to her. What was once a wildfire is now a torch, a flame held against the world, steady and thriving and impossible to stop.

The part of her that’s aware of Luke, however, can sense the turbulence still happening near the _Falcon_. Dulled with distance, and now, so rich after so much time apart, his presence already brought up so many feelings in her, but _this_ — his sadness, anger, fear, relief, awe, pride, too many emotions to name all mixing together and amplified, a thousand times — it threatens to truly overwhelm her.

She senses Finn, too, gentle against her mind. Where Rey is a wildfire, and now a single flame, Finn is the lightning that started the fire; always moving, always changing.

They’re both at a loss for what to do. Rey had planned on a longer reunion with Finn, and Leia with Luke. It seems fitting, then, that they should talk quietly for a time, carefully avoiding the subject of _Finn Skywalker_. It’s only after she takes Rey to Finn’s quarters to get sleep, that she can speak to either Finn or Luke.  They stand in her office when she gets there.

They’ve dimmed themselves. They’re no less present but not as overwhelming. Finn stares at her with something odd in his eyes. Anger, something she expected, but there’s an understanding there too. Understanding that she’s not sure she deserves. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Finn, it tore me apart, believe me. I knew how much you wanted a family, I felt that in you every moment, and I only put the pieces together a few weeks ago. But it wasn’t mine to tell. Would you have believed me if I did?” Just like that, his anger dims, leaving in it’s wake only shock and something else. Happiness, with caution; as if this is all a dream and he’s preparing to wake up from it.

She can get nothing from Luke, besides a dimmed perception of his feelings. He’s shutting himself to her. _Of course he is. Fourteen years apparently wasn’t enough time to hide_ , she thinks bitterly. Finn is about to speak again, and this time he’s relieved. Relieved that he has a family, a father, an explanation.

Luke speaks up before he can. “Leia, I’m sorry.”

“You damn well should be.”

Finn’s eyebrows raise along with his hands. “I think I’ll… I’m just gonna _go_.”

Luke calls him back. Leia lets him leave.

It’s the most she’s ever yelled at anyone, and when she’s done, she gives him another hug. There are tears streaming down her face. Luke squeezes her, and for just a moment, everything is alright again. He sleeps in a cot in the room with her; she doesn’t trust him not to leave again. She doesn’t explicitly say this, but she knows that he knows.

She sleeps soundly that night, for the first time since Naboo. Bothroscan’s weather the next morning is cautiously happy. A mirror of what they’re all feeling. Luke sits on a cliff peak, facing the rising sun, and she almost rolls her eyes. She sits with him anyways. “How Jedi of us.”

Leia feels his laughter more loudly than she hears it. She almost asks where Finn and Rey are, but she can feel them, now, somewhere on base. She can tell they’re together, orbiting each other like binary stars, bright and hot.

Bringing herself back into focus, Leia draws on the energy of the Force surrounding them, and breathes.

Her brother is with her. The Resistance is growing stronger. For the first time in years, there’s real _hope_.

**Author's Note:**

> This is legit the longest thing I've ever written, and I wrote it at the beginning of 2016 and worked on it for months and left it untouched until recently. I still really like it, and I hope you guys like it too!


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